They’re In Hot Sauce Now

, , , , , | Working | September 17, 2018

(I’m going to grab some lunch at a fast food place. I like to have a particular kind of sauce with my meal because before my father died, he would always get the same sauces and we’d eat together. It’s a way of making me feel like he’s still with me. So, naturally, I ask for this sauce when I go to order. It’s typical that this gets mixed up with a similar sauce when I get my food. I point it out and get a quick apology for the mix-up and the right sauce. At least, that’s what normally happens.)

Me: *seeing I have honey mustard instead of hot mustard* “Excuse me. I was given the wrong sauce. I asked for hot mustard.”

Cashier: *snottily* “Well, it’s the exact same thing.”

Me: “With all due respect, it’s not. Please, may I get hot mustard, instead?”

Cashier: “We’re all out.”

(I can see where they keep the sauces, and I can tell you, it most definitely isn’t out.)

Me: “Please, one is all I need.”

Cashier: “I don’t have to give you any! You don’t need anything else!”

Me: *smiling politely* “May I speak to your manager, please?”

(She brings the manager, obviously telling him her side of the conversation, and I hear her tell him that I am cussing her out.)

Manager: “Ma’am, I heard you were verbally abusing my employee.”

Me: *shaking my head* “No, sir. I simply asked for hot mustard instead of honey mustard. I still would like that, but I wanted you aware of her actions. She spoke to me rudely, proceeded to lie to me, and then told me what I consider to be an insult.”

Manager: “I don’t believe that. She’s our best employee here and—”

(A nearby customer has been looking at the menu the entire time, so he has heard everything.)

Customer: “The girl’s right; she never said anything rude. She was polite the whole time she was getting harassed. Doesn’t matter if she’s your best employee or not. She insulted a customer, who I’m surprised is still here.”

(The manager’s eyes widened as he looked at his cashier, telling her to get me the sauce I asked for. I thanked her in as polite a tone as I could muster and went to eat. The customer then stopped by my table. Turns out he was the manager’s brother!)

How Do You Say “Burn” In Polish?

, , , , , , , | Friendly | September 14, 2018

(In London, if you’re pregnant you can apply for a pin-on badge that says, “Baby on board,” so that people can offer you their seat on public transport — if they want to — without having to having to guess if someone is pregnant or just shapely. I am about seven months pregnant and have a badge, but I’m only going to be on board about ten minutes. I get on, and it’s packed, but I can stand. It’s no big deal, as I’m off the train at the next stop. A few seconds later, a Polish teenager offers me a seat. I decline, but thank him and let him know that I’m off on the next stop, anyway. I turn away and get my water out of my bag only to hear a middle-aged man in a suit start to rant. He is seated further down the carriage.)

Middle-Aged Man: “Those f****** immigrants. No manners. He’s just sitting there. Not even offering that pregnant lady his seat. He should be ashamed.” *gestures to the Polish man*

(We all ignore him, and I shoot the young guy who offered me a seat an apologetic smile. Suddenly, a little old lady further down the carriage marches up and hits the ranting man’s shin with her umbrella.)

Old Lady: “I heard that young man offer her his seat! You can bloody talk! You’re in priority seating. You’re the one that’s meant to move for the less-abled. It says it right above your head. He might be Polish, but you can’t even read English!”

(The man in a suit went bright red and got off the train at the next stop. He disembarked so quickly that he almost knocked over several other passengers.)

They Are Disabling Themselves With Their Ignorance

, , , , , , , | Friendly | September 11, 2018

(I’m out with a friend and his daughter, who, thanks to complications and sheer medical bad luck, is just now learning to properly speak at the age of seven. Despite this, my friend loves her to the point of giving her anything she wants. We’re shopping, and I’m tagging along to help out, both of us having her read boxes and signs.)

Friend: “All right, [Daughter], what’s that?” *points to a bag of cat food I’m lifting*

Daughter: “Kitty! Kitty!” *jumps up and down*

Friend: “Good! It’s food for the kitty. Kitties have to eat, too.”

Daughter: “Kitty!”

Me: *to a passing woman* “Hello.”

Woman: “Why is it out here?”

Me: “What?” *puts down cat food*

Woman: “The [disabled slur]! It needs to be put up!”

(My friend’s head snaps up so quickly and I see a certain hate in his eyes that scares me.)

Friend: “Listen here—”

Woman: “Why don’t you let your poor wife deal with it? Lord knows she’s probably brain dead if she wanted to keep it.”

(I grab my friend’s daughter and immediately take her with me as I get a manager in hope they can diffuse the situation while keeping [Daughter] away from it. I return with the manager to find that the woman is near tears and my friend is red in the face from anger.)

Me: “Uh… Should I take [Daughter] away again?”

Friend: “No. We’re leaving.”

(He walks out quickly and I hesitate before following.)

Daughter: “Dada! Lady sad.”

Friend: “I know.”

Daughter: “Why, Dada?”

Friend: “I got onto her like [My Name] does when his sister is being mean. The lady was very mean and said some bad stuff. So I got onto her.”

Me: “What did you say to her?”

Friend: “Don’t worry about it. She won’t be insulting innocent children anymore, though.”

(I was both terrified and respectful of my friend after that. The look in his eyes when the woman called [Daughter] a hurtful slur for a disabled person was enough to make me know that [Friend] is not to be messed with.)

The Customer Is The One Getting A Wrist Slap

, , , , , , | Right | September 10, 2018

(I work at a discount retail store. We have a jewelry counter that has frequent visitors who ring the service bell. At this particular time I’m suppose to leave to head to class but since the checkout line is twenty customers deep I decide to help the customer in jewelry.)

Customer: “It’s about time you showed up!”

Me: “I apologize; I’m suppose to be leaving but wanted to help you instead so you didn’t have to wait so long for someone else.”

Customer: “I want to see these seven bracelets over here!”

(Our policy states we can show customers two pieces of jewelry at a time, but I end up showing her all seven just to speed up the process.)

Customer: “Okay I want these four, and not the other three!”

Me: “No problem!”

(I slide the four she wants to purchase on my wrist, not to confuse them while I put the other three back. I have to walk the jewelry to the cash registers so along with her other few items it is easier this way. I am confronted with a strong grunt from the customer.)

Customer: “Can you please take the bracelets I am purchasing off your wrist!”

Me: “Sorry, ma’am, I just didn’t want to mistakenly put them back in the case.”

Customer: “No, I’m sorry, it’s fine, but do you think if I tell the manager you disrespected me I can get 10% off my purchase since I missed Senior Discount day yesterday?”

Me: “I’ll let the manager know you have decided to slander my customer service for your own gain.”

(And that’s exactly what I did. I told the manager, and they were furious. I left and honestly don’t know what happened but I’d imagine it wasn’t good.)

Driving Themselves To Their Own Fate

, , , , | Legal | September 7, 2018

In my state, you can turn right on red at a traffic light. Unless you have a green arrow to signify the right-of-way — or even the solid green light — you do not have to turn, nor should you if it isn’t safe.

Today, I was at a red light waiting to turn right. I inched forward, saw a car coming from the left, and stopped. Immediately, the driver behind me blared her horn and gestured that she wanted me to turn.

I inched up a little further after the car from the left passed, looking for another car before turning.

Again, the woman behind me blared her horn. I looked in my rear view mirror to see her screaming and giving me both middle fingers. I waved (with my whole hand) and sat there until the light turned green. When it finally did change, I turned and the woman behind me drove up on the shoulder to be beside me. She rolled down her window and screamed, “YOU DUMB C***! LEARN TO DRIVE!”

It was just about that time that a local police officer a few cars behind us turned on his lights and brought her to a stop. I didn’t stick around to see what happened, but I’m guessing I’m not the only one who received some advice about driving.

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